“I believe in you,” I whispered. “And I love you. You always have me in your corner.”
“I know.” He focused back on the ceiling with a sigh. “What are you going to do?”
“I don't know.” Saying the words out loud stirred fear and loneliness in my gut. “He knows I love him. I've shown him, forgiven him. I can't make him realize he’s capable of loving someone. He needs to do that on his own.”
“Well, for a guy, actions speak louder than words.”
“What do you mean?” Silence met my response, piquing my interest. “Bradley.”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“Um, yes?”
“Beka,” he said with a frustrated groan.
“Don't ‘Beka’ me, you jackass.”
“You can't call me a jackass. You just told me you loved me and were in my corner!”
“I can. We're siblings, so it's allowed. Tell me, what did you mean by that?”
He sighed and pushed to sit up. “He told me not to tell you.”
“Even better reason to tell me.”
“He's meeting those guys tonight, the ones I owe money to.”
I stared, mouth open. “What? How… when… what?”
“He told me to set it up, Beka. He said he didn't want those guys on his property or anywhere near you.”
Anger mixed with fear pushed aside all the sorrow and hurt from earlier. Hands balled into tight fists, I stood and started toward the door. “When?”
“One.”
“Who's his backup?”
“I don't know.”
“Fuck, Bradley! You sent him out there alone?”
“I had no other choice!” he shouted back. “Not like I could go.”
“Where?”
“No. You're not going—”
The warm grip of my SIG pressed against my palm. Keeping it pointed to the floor, I flicked off the safety and engaged the slide. His wide eyes zeroed in on the loaded weapon.
“I won't ask again, Bradley.”
“You wouldn't.”
“Do you want to find out what I will or won't do to protect that man?”
Defiant brown eyes flicked to mine. “I sent him a pinned location.”
Anticipation swirled, making my hands tremble. “Send it to me.” I turned to the door, pausing when he pushed off the bed to stand.
“You're not going alone.”
With a smirk, I said, “You're right, but you're not the backup I'm taking.”
24
Rebeka
“We're close,” I said to the others as we walked side by side down the old county road.
“Can't believe you talked us into this,” Ryder grumbled. “Pulled me out of bed even.”
I smirked at the glowing phone screen. Damn, that girl could hold a grudge. We didn't talk about our argument on the call when I asked for her and Kyle's help, or in the truck on the way here. But what made friendships like ours amazing was that we didn’t have to. Not right now at least. We could table it until we had the allotted time, and a few bottles of wine, to hash things out and wrap it up with a good romcom movie.
This was not that night.
The weight of the large rifle pressed against my shoulder. I adjusted the shoulder strap to the other side to relieve the growing ache.
“I'm pissed the bastard didn't ask for my help to begin with,” Kyle said while tugging the gun from my shoulder. “Beka, calm down. I'll give it back. Don't shoot me that ‘I’ll cut you’ look. Just offering to be your pack mule until we get there and this big guy is needed.”
Ryder linked elbows with mine like we were on a Sunday stroll instead of what we were actually doing—heading to a buyout meeting to save the arrogant asshole who held my heart, packing only a rifle, one AR, and four pistols between us. Kyle was a hell of a shot and offered to bring his AR in case things got out of hand, and Ryder being Ryder brought her .40-caliber hand cannon, plus snacks.
It was twenty after one when voices of men talking carried on the gusting wind. I snapped the phone off and tucked it into the back pocket of my jeans to take the rifle from Kyle's extended hand.
On silent feet, we crouched closer toward the lights and voices.
Once the group was in view, we lay along the ground where we had a clear line of sight and waited.
“Can you hear what they're saying?” Ryder whispered between crunching bites. I turned from the group to stare at her incredulously. “What? I eat when I'm nervous. You know that.”
I shook my head and turned to look back through the scope. Thank goodness we decided to show up. This could get out of hand quick.
Four men stood across from Brenton, illuminated by two sets of headlights. A couple more of the bad guys leaned against the hood of their two idling trucks.
“I count six baddies and one Sir Fancy Pants,” I whispered to Kyle. “You?”
“Same. I don't see any hanging around the edges on patrol, but I want to double-check. Ryder, stay with Beka.”
A soft wind brushed through my hair and over my sweaty face. Shit, what would we do if they shot him? Take them all out? We needed a plan. All I could think about was getting out here, and now that we were, I was at a loss.
“Hey,” Ryder whispered.
“What?”
“I need to tell you something.”
I pulled back from the scope. “Now?”
“Yeah, it's kind of important.”
I rested the rifle along the ground and turned to her. “What's going on?”
“I think… I'm calling off the wedding.”
I stared unblinkingly at my best friend for what seemed like thirty minutes, trying to figure out if I heard her right. Then approaching steps had me grabbing the rifle and turning to the intruder.
“Just me,” Kyle said as he crouched between us. “Just those fuckers we see. No one else. But it looks like it's getting heated down there. Not sure what's being said, but it seems like your boy is toying with them.”
“Wouldn't surprise me,” I grumbled. “That guy has always loved a fight.”
“Except they have guns.”
“I'm sure Brenton does too.”
I felt more than saw Kyle shake his head. “Look on the ground, by his feet. They made him toss it.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, and looks like it's about to get real down there.”
I turned to stare through the scope again just in time to see two of the men walk on either side of Brenton to restrain his arms.
“Well hell.”
“What do you want to do?” Kyle asked.
I scanned the surrounding area. Plan. We needed a damn plan. But it was difficult to think when half my heart was in the middle of the shitshow.
“Kyle, you go over that way. If things get really bad, ping the sides of the trucks and I'll take out the windows. I don't see anyone inside that we could hit. Maybe they'll think they're surrounded and bolt.”
“Or kill Brenton.”
“Let's go with my version.”
“Okay, boss.” At that, he patted Ryder's head and slunk off into the dark.
I waited a few seconds after he disappeared before shoving Ryder's shoulder. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I don't know, okay?”
“What do you mean you don't know? If you're talking about calling off the wedding, you better know what you're doing.”
“Remember that one time at Dos Amigos when I got so pissed at you and said a bunch of stuff I regretted?”
“Last night?” I deadpanned.
“Yeah, then. Well, I realized after we left why I said it. I'm damn jealous of you.”
“Me?” I squeaked louder than I should’ve, considering our dangerous surroundings.
“I saw the way Brenton looked at you, the way you love him desperately no matter what he's done or was going to do. The way you talked about him being so possessive and wanting you made me realize what Kyle a
nd I don't have.”
“But you get along so well,” I said, still in shock. This was not happening. She could not compare the hot fling I had with Brenton to the long-term relationship she had with Kyle. Could she? What they had, people would kill over. The love and respect they had were what I wanted one day.
“We do. We're friends, yeah, but that spark, the desperation for each other, just isn't there. And maybe it never was. We just kind of happened as a couple, and we got along so well that we just kept at it. I want what you and Brenton have. I want that spark. I want the air sucked out of me every time he enters the room. When Brenton looks at you, everyone around can feel it. He loves you, Beka. I know he does. It doesn’t mean he’ll end up staying, but I want that look from the man I’m going to marry. I want what you have with Brenton.”
“He says he can’t love. That he’s broken,” I whispered to the dusty ground.
Not knowing what to say next, I turned back toward the group and brought the scope to my eye.
“The sex is terrible, if you really want to know.”
“I didn't,” I whisper-yelled back. “How bad are we talking?”
“At least he's good with his tongue.”
“See, there's a positive.”
“But I'm a ‘dick not lick’ girl.”
My shoulders trembled as I held in a fit of giggles. This was a ridiculous conversation, especially here. But with Ryder, everything was random and fun. One of the reasons I loved her.
“Shit,” I whispered.
“I know, right. I mean, I like him down there, but sometimes—”
“Not that,” I hissed. “Brenton.”
One man sucker punched Brenton in the gut while two others held back his arms. The entire bad guy crew had a good laugh while each got a hit in. Still, Brenton didn't attempt to break free.
“What’s going on?” Ryder asked between crunchy bites.
“Shh.”
“Wish this reality show came with subtitles.”
My heart ratcheted against my chest when one man drew his pistol and pointed it at Brenton’s chest.
“Shit's about to get real. Hand me the ammo.”
The bullets rattled in the box from her trembling hand as she handed it over. “What can I do?”
“Calm me down. I can't shoot like this.” Settling back, I raised the gun to line up the scope. “My hands are fucking shaking.”
Ryder rambled about work, her parents, life. With each second, each word, my heartbeat steadied and my nerves quietened. When Kyle's first bullet went through the passenger door of a truck, I was ready.
Taking aim, I focused on the driver-side window and pulled the trigger. Glass shattered less than a second later, echoing through the night. I only paused long enough to make sure our distraction was noticed.
I shot out window after window while Kyle peppered the metal sides with the AR from his vantage point.
The men shouted, and the one holding the gun to Brenton spun around, firing frantically into the dark. Brenton collapsed to the ground when the two men dropped him to run toward a truck and leap in the bed as it disappeared down the road. Within seconds the other truck had roared off in the same direction, leaving only my truck's headlights pouring through the night.
Rifle in hand, I raced through the dust and dirt toward Brenton. At the sound of my approach, he pushed off the ground, only to fall back again. Furious green eyes locked with mine the second I stepped into the bright beams.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he coughed before spitting a mix of blood and saliva to the dirt.
“It looks like saving your dumb ass is what,” I retorted with a smile, which fell when he spit another mouthful of blood to the ground. “Face the beams so I can check your face.”
“I'm not one of your damn animals. I'm fine.”
“You sure? Because you're acting like a jackass right now.” I smirked down at his snarl. “Get it? Jackass? Donkey?”
Stone-faced, he turned into the light. Like I'd done with Bradley just days earlier, I pushed the emotion aside to focus on the task at hand. Not once did he flinch or balk at my prodding fingers along his injuries. Besides a busted lip and swollen cheek, no other wounds were visible on his face, though who knew what was broken or cracked beneath this shirt. He’d be sore for days, that was certain.
“Besides being a dumbass, I think you're fine.” I stood and extended a hand to help him up. He groaned in pain as I put my full body weight into yanking him to his feet. A loud thump reverberated through the still night as he fell against the truck for support.
I turned to Kyle and Ryder who’d just walked up staying silent during our spat. “You guys go ahead. I'll drive him back.”
“You sure?” Ryder asked.
I nodded. “I still have my rifle and SIG if they come back. Thanks for helping.”
“Always, you know that,” Kyle said with a wave. “Call us if you need anything.”
“Hey,” Brenton gritted out with a wince. “Thanks.”
“We would've come with you from the beginning,” Ryder said with her arms folded across her chest. “Why did you come into this alone?”
His eyes shifted to stare into the darkness. “It's my fight. From what I could gather from Bradley, most of the debt was what Caleb owed before he died. I didn't want to drag anyone else into this mess. Especially not her.”
Her.
Me.
“You really are a dumbass.” Ryder chuckled. “She”—she pointed to me but kept her glare locked on him—“is the best thing that’s happened to you, and you're doing nothing about it.”
“I was trying to protect her,” he said, then took an unsteady step toward me. “You've been through enough because of me—”
“Oh stop it with that shit,” I yelled. “You don't get to decide what I'm protected from or what I'm not involved in. Leaving me out of this wasn't your decision to make.”
The distant howl of coyotes filled our stiff silence. Instead of sticking around to hear what other bullshit he would use as an excuse, I waved to Kyle, told Ryder I'd call her later, and climbed into the truck.
Minutes ticked by with the engine idling as the other three stood in the headlights, talking too low for me to understand what they were discussing. With a shake of hands, the small group disbanded and Brenton turned, pinning me with an uncertain gaze through the windshield before shuffling to the truck. He grunted as he hauled himself in and slammed the passenger door.
Turning the AC on full blast, he leaned back and closed his eyes.
Fine. Not talking about it, then.
I shifted the truck into Drive and headed home.
“I'm sorry,” he said halfway back. “I really thought I had it handled. And I don't want you anywhere near those bastards. They don't know you exist, and we're going to keep it that way. They'd find some way to use you as leverage if they did.”
Ah, so there it was. It wasn't about putting me in danger tonight but the long-term effects that he was concerned about. When he put it that way, it did make sense.
“I get it, I really do. You're a dude, a soldier whose main focus is protecting others. But you don't get to make that decision for me. All you had to do was tell me why you didn't want me out there and we would've figured it out. I let you boss me around in bed, and I love it, but everywhere else, I make my own decisions. I'm not some simpering Dallas socialite.”
“Thank fuck.”
A small smile tugged at my lips as we pulled up the long drive. “I'll help you inside.”
Halfway up the steps, he wobbled and swayed. To prevent him from tumbling back down, I ducked a shoulder under his arm and pulled him close. Inside, we bounced off the hall walls a few times before making it to his room.
“Hope Mrs. Hathway didn't hear us,” I said through gritted teeth. Damn, the man was heavy.
“She's gone. I fired her this evening when we got back.”
Hell. Was it bad that I wanted to say thank you?
; Still processing that bit of information and how I should feel, I guided him toward the bed.
“No, I need a shower.” Redirecting, we shuffled as one to the large en suite bathroom. The marble countertops and white tile floors gleamed when I flicked the bright lights on. While I readied the shower, he leaned against the counter and examined his face in the mirror. “Not bad. Not good. But not terrible.”
“Could've been worse.”
“But it wasn't thanks to you and your posse.”
I snorted and tugged the black T-shirt over his head. Those tatted arms fell to his side, then reached back, pulling me flush against his hot skin. With a relieved sigh, I melted against him and pressed my cheek to his back.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Thank you for protecting my brother,” I whispered. “Is he… I mean, are we good, or will they come back?”
“We're good. I'll wire them the money tomorrow. I made it clear about what I'd do if they stepped foot on my property again.”
“Was that before or after they treated you as their personal punching bag?”
He squeezed me closer. “Before. I think they were trying to prove a point.”
“Which was?”
“That they would do what I asked, but it wasn't because they were scared of me.”
I tensed at the anger in his tone. “Should they be?”
“If they get anywhere near you, yes. I want you to know something.” He flipped around, resting his ass on the counter, and pulled me against his chest. “If anyone could make me want to try, want to figure out a real relationship, it'd be you. But I'm not there. I know you've waited, but there’s still a lot of shit about me you don't know, that I don't want you to know. What if that’s the final straw in you walking away?”
Instead of responding, I kissed his chest above his heart and pulled at his belt. The soft cotton of my T-shirt slid up my back as he tugged it over my head. With a flick of his fingers, the bra’s thick band released from around my ribs and the straps slid down my arms. Chest to chest, skin to skin, he angled my chin to capture my lips with his. He kissed me soft and slow, pouring every ounce of emotion that he couldn't verbalize into me.
Vote Then Read: Volume III Page 239